


Missing Him

by charmingoutlaws (twdsunshine)



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 14:58:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16452080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twdsunshine/pseuds/charmingoutlaws
Summary: The reader and Tig Trager were made for each other, falling together and falling in love as easily as breathing.  But distance and insecurities got in the way and now all she seems to do is miss him.





	Missing Him

**Author's Note:**

> This is my entry for @coffee-obsessed-writer‘s “Fics for Follows” Challenge on Tumblr. It is obviously written for the Sons of Anarchy fandom, is a Tig x Reader fic, 1911 words and my prompt was ‘Sometimes you tell someone to never call you again, and then the phone rings and you hope it’s them. It’s the most twisted logic of all time.’ Just a little angsty-fluff piece that I hope you all enjoy. Thank you for checking it out.

Tig Trager was on the prowl.  You’d recognise that look anywhere, the glint in his piercing blue eyes, the devilish smile that quirked up his lips as he sidled up to a group of crow eaters, arms outspread, practically inviting them in as he called for a round of shots to be delivered to the table.  A hassled looking prospect got right on it and, by the time he’d made it over with the tray full of glasses, Tig was settled on one end of the couch, with a scantily-clad girl on each knee and a flush of colour on his face.  

Unable to watch anymore, you knocked back what remained of your drink and slammed the tumbler down on the bar, whirling around and making a hasty exit, forcing your way through the crowd, oblivious to the glances you drew.  It had been a mistake to come here, you knew that deep down, but you’d found yourself unable to stay away.

The truth was that it was getting harder, being alone.  Your bed felt oversized, the sheets cold with only your body to warm them.  The house stood silent, lonely, and it had gotten to the point where you couldn’t even stand the sight of it when you turned into your road at the end of a long shift.  In days gone by, you’d have been hurrying around the corner, breaking into a run when the familiar Dyna had come into view, backed against the sidewalk, knowing its rider would be inside waiting to greet you with open arms and eager kisses.  But it had all gone so wrong.  A run had separated you for too long, and insecurities and paranoia had raised their ugly heads, an argument erupting seemingly out of nowhere over a crackly phone line, and then it was all over and, when he got back to town, he hadn’t come knocking on your door as he would have done before.

You’d studiously avoided the club for months after that, hiding yourself away and scurrying from the roar of motorcycles when they rode through town, but tonight the temptation to see him again had just been too much.  Regret gnawed at your insides as you stepped out into the cool night air.  You should have known that he’d have thrown himself back into the outlaw lifestyle with abandon.  He wasn’t mourning your relationship.  He’d moved on and you only wished that you could do the same.

Unable to face going home to that empty house, you rounded the side of the clubhouse, fingers running along the wall until they found the metal rungs of a rusted ladder.  Blinking back tears, you began to climb, stopping only when you reached the roof, relieved to find it empty as you sank down onto an upturned crate and tried to force down the nausea that had risen in your throat.  

Your mind drifted back to the first time you’d met.  You’d been new in town when Tig had sauntered in to the diner where you’d managed to pick up a few shifts, just enough to pay the rent until you found something better.  It had been almost comical, how he’d frozen at the sight of you, jaw dropping open as he ran a calloused hand through those unruly curls.  For your part, you’d been halfway to feeling pretty damn uncomfortable as he gawped, tugging down the skirt that was a part of the uniform that you had to wear, and adjusting the neckline of your shirt.  When you’d wrinkled your nose in distaste on being handed the compulsory outfit, the manager had just grinned, pointing out that it’d do just as well for you as it did him, bringing in the best tips in Charming.  Maybe so, but it also brought its fair share of leers and suggestive comments, all of which were met with a loud sigh and a roll of your eyes.  As you’d readied yourself to show your disinterest this time though, your attention had been caught by the man’s eyes - crystal blue and full of warmth and excitement - and instead of unleashing your customary putdown, you’d found yourself smiling shyly as you’d approached.  When you’d seated him at a booth and poured him a mug of coffee, his order hadn’t been for anything on the menu, but for dinner with you the following evening, and from there you hadn’t looked back.  It had been easy, natural, like breathing until… Until it wasn’t anymore.

‘What are ye doin’ here, love?’  Your pity party was interrupted by a lilting voice from behind you and you turned to see Chibs, who was regarding you through narrowed eyes and shaking his head.  His approach had been drowned out by the hum of music from the bar below, and you jumped a little at his shadowy figure.

‘I don’t really know,’ you admitted, fiddling with the sleeves of your hoody, uncomfortable, until he sank down beside you, his hand coming up to rest on your shoulder, his expression softening at the emotion in your voice. He looked tired, you thought, more ragged than the last time you’d seen him, his hair greyer, his face more lined, and you wondered what had been going on with the club to leave him looking so wrecked.  ‘How have you been?’

‘Aye, not bad,’ he lied, though you didn’t push him on it.  ‘How’re you?’

You sighed, nibbling on your bottom lip as you tried to decide whether to be honest or put on a brave face.  As your eyes met his though, you knew your pain was writ across your features.  ‘I miss him, Chibby.’

He scoffed.  ‘Shouldn’t ya be tellin’ him that?’

‘I think that’s why I came here.  But I don’t…  I don’t even know if that’s what he wants to hear.’

‘Are ye expectin’ me to be able to help ya, lass?  ‘Cause I can’t.  Tiggy ain’t said nothin’ ‘bout the break-up to anyone, far as I know.’  He cleared his throat, seemingly challenging as he quirked an eyebrow at you.  ‘’Cept that ye told him never t’ call ya again.  He did mention that part.  Ya hurt him pretty bad there, love.’

‘I know.’  You bent forward, hiding your face as tears welled up in your eyes at the thought of the older outlaw bottling up his pain, dealing with it alone, just as you’d been.  ‘But, it’s like…   **Sometimes you tell someone to never call you again, and then the phone rings and you hope it’s them.  It’s the most twisted logic of all time.** ’

‘D’ya still love him?’  It was a direct question and it took you by surprise, but you were nodding before you’d even thought about it, the answer coming to you instinctively.  

‘I do.  More than anything.’

‘Then ye’ve got t’ talk to him, Y/N.’

But it all seemed too hard.  How could you just walk up to him now and tell him how you felt?  Too much time had passed, too many more notches racked up on his bedpost and you were almost certain that he’d wave you away without a second thought.  Chibs was right - you had hurt him and Tig didn’t do second chances.  It had been a big deal for him, letting you in, past the walls that he threw up against the world, and you’d ruined it all.  Now, you just had to live with that.

Tiring of the conversation, you pushed yourself to your feet, scrubbing your hands across your eyes to wipe away the evidence of your heartache.  ‘I’m sorry.  I can’t do this right now.’

You turned to leave, intent on running away and never coming back to this place and the memories it held, only to find your path blocked by the very person you’d just been talking about.  Tig’s gaze locked on yours, and your breath caught in your throat at the raw need that you saw there.  His brow was creased in confusion, his mouth falling open as though he wanted to speak, but for a long time, you just stood in silence, as he struggled to find the words.

Finally, Chibs eased himself up from his seat, squeezing your arm as he passed, whispering ‘I’ll leave ye to it, love,’ in your ear as he moved towards the ladder.  Tig stepped aside for him and the Scotsman disappeared from sight, leaving you struggling to breathe with the weight of the atmosphere that had settled over the rooftop.  

The silence seemed to drag on forever, weaving itself around you and tightening around your chest until you thought you might die if he didn’t say something soon, but he just continued to look at you as though he couldn’t quite believe you were there.  You thought about asking him how long he’d been standing there but it was clear from his expression that he’d heard every word.  

‘Tig-’ you began, unsure how to go on, just needing to say something, anything, but it didn’t matter as the sound of your voice spurred him into action.  In a heartbeat, he was striding towards you, one hand landing on your waist as the other tangled in your hair and dragged your mouth to his.  He kissed you as though it were the first time, devoured you like a starving man, and you clung to him, fingers fisting his leather kutte, desperately trying to pull him closer, deeper.  When he finally broke away, you were both breathing hard, eyes glazed, faces flushed, and it was several long moments before he finally spoke.

‘Oh, baby.  We’ve been real damn stupid, haven’t we?’  He rested his forehead on yours, blue eyes mesmerising and intense.  ‘I’m so sorry.  I should never have let you go.  You were my girl and I was a dick.’

‘I’m still your girl,’ you reassured him.  ‘I’ll always be your girl.’

‘Not my girl,’ he countered and your heart sank.  ‘My old lady.’  There was that devilish smile you loved so much, the whiskey-mint tang of his breath ghosting over your face as he reached up to cup your cheek.  

‘A-are you sure you want that?’ you asked, already kicking yourself but needing to know.  Not ten minutes ago he’d been lavishing the sweet butts with affection and now here he was, reeling you in again.  'You seemed to be enjoying the whole free and single thing.’

'Nah.’  He shut you down with a shake of his head, the pad of his thumb rubbing over your bottom lip as you gazed up at him.  'Distractions, baby, that’s all they were.  Just distractions.  It’s you I want.’

It was more than you’d dared to hope for, and when his mouth crashed against yours again you hauled yourself up his body, wrapping your legs around his waist as his hands slid beneath your thighs, needing to feel him pressed against every part of you.  The muscles in his arms shifted beneath your fingers as he tightened his hold on you, and the knot in your stomach melted into a delicious pool of warmth as your nerves sprung to life, buzzing with pleasure at the sensation of his kiss, his touch.  God, you’d missed this.  But you wanted more.  You needed more.

When he dropped his head to press hot, sloppy kisses over your throat, you carded your fingers through his curls, forcing him to lift his face to meet your eyes.  'Take me home, Tiggy.’

'Yes, ma'am.’


End file.
